


somewhere only we know

by shewearsglasses



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gwen Doesn't Die, Always a different Universe, Arranged Marriage, Bad Flirting, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, Everybody Lives, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Human Wade Wilson, Love Triangles, M/M, Medieval, Mild Sexual Content, Past Lives, Pirates, Royalty, Secret Relationship, Vampire Slayer(s), Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-01-26 17:45:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1696955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewearsglasses/pseuds/shewearsglasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>throughout all the years, all the lives, and all the universes, they are drawn together. 3-Drabble collection. DISCONTINUED.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prince and the Fool

**Author's Note:**

> Discontinued-- I'll instead be posting oneshots, rather than updating AUs here.

The year is 1761. Peter’s father requires he pick a suitable bride to make his Queen. Problem is… the only person who seems to catch Peter’s eye is his father’s fool. His name’s Wade and he’s not only the fool, but a bastard. He’s as far from acceptable as remotely possible. So, he picks the blonde girl with the purple dress just to appease his father.

“Ah,” his father says, nodding. “Lovely choice; her name is Gwen,” the girl approaches them, and curtsies, to which Peter must bow. She does not speak, and is instead led away by her lady in waiting. The king nods again, “Her father owns half the kingdom. She’ll make a fine queen.”

A fine queen or a good purchase, Peter wonders, but he chooses not to speak. He nods, smiling as if he is just as happy to make Gwen his queen. Then the fool enters, and the smile doesn’t seem quite so forced.

Peter excuses himself, as he doesn’t want to seem so eager as to laugh aloud at the fool. Peter’s father knows how little he laughs as of late, and such a public display would alert his father that something was going on. And though nothing was truly “going on,” the fact that Peter wished there was did not help his problem any.

He meets his bride-to-be properly later that evening. She sneaks into his chambers just after sunset. He turns from where he’s seated at his desk. Surprised, he stutters her name. She smiles. She’s so delicate and pretty. Peter almost wishes he could’ve fallen for her instead. “Hi,” she says, smiling too wide. It’s fake and awkward but it’s the thought that counts.

“Hi,” he says back just as fake and awkward. Her smile widens and her eyes flash.

She touches the tip of her nose with her thumb, scratching at it in what appears to be a nervous habit. “So,” she starts, “We’re engaged to be married.”

Peter nods. He swallows his doubts and tries to keep the smile on his face. He’s failing and she can probably see that. “Yes,” he says.

She walks around the room, eyes everywhere at once. She stops when she’s in front of him, “I’m Gwen.” She says because what else is there to do but this. She holds out her hand and Peter takes it, shaking it firmly.

He laughs, “I know. I’m Peter.”

“I know,” she smiles. She backs up until she’s just above the loveseat in front of his bed, and she sits. “This room is wonderful,” she says.

Peter wishes he could think of something of meaning to say, but when he opens his mouth, all that comes out is, “Thank you.”

She continues to visually explore the room, pausing to gaze at the small library he’s acquired. “Wow,” she says, standing and moving toward the collection of books. “Are these all yours?”

He nods, but realizing her back is turned, he clears his throat and affirms her. “I love to read,” he tells her. She glances at him grinning.

“Then we do have something in common.”

Peter stands and joins her in front of the bookshelves. “Did you expect not to?”

She flushes, mumbling her answer under her breath, “We barely know each other. We live on opposite sides of the kingdom.” He barely hears her.

He shrugs, “That doesn’t mean we’re not inherently similar. It’s exactly as you said.” She looks up at him. “We barely know each other. For all we _know_ we could be the same person inside.”

She smiles easily this time. “Maybe we’ll even grow to like each other.”

Peter feigns shock, “Now you’re saying you don’t like me?”

The conversation becomes easy between Peter and Gwen. They fit together well, and while they might never have met without this arranged marriage business, Peter’s happy that if he has to marry someone, it’s her. Maybe he’ll even come to love her one day. But at the very least, they become friends and that’s enough.

They begin meeting daily for lunch, and bond over reading, and surprisingly, astrology. The stars are a huge fascination of Gwen’s, and they talk about building a tower where there’s no roof, so that they may lay out and stare up at the sky anytime they please. Married life begins to sound almost…good.

It’s not until a week later when Peter meets Wade in the halls that he remembers why he didn’t want to marry Gwen. Wade’s carrying three trays stacked with glasses of champagne. “Your majesty,” he greets Peter.

It wouldn’t be unusual for anyone but Wade to use his title. “Wade,” Peter says, effectively stopping him. “Where are you going?”

Wade grins at him. His cheeks stretch too wide, and the bandage around his forehead shifts. Peter eyes it, and almost asks what happened there, but he knows that’ll just bring about a long story he hasn’t the time for. “I’m glad you asked, your majesty.”

“Peter,” he corrects.

“I’m glad you asked, Petey,” Wade says, and it rolls off his tongue in such a way that Peter has to forcibly keep the shudder down. “I’m moving up in the world, ol’ buddy, ol’ pal! I’ve been promoted to kitchen fool.”

Peter squints at him, “Kitchen fool?”

“Aye,” Wade says. If anything, his grin now appears bigger. His brown eyes twinkle in pure delight. Peter’s always loved his eyes; they’re so vivid and bright. They almost have a hint of honey in the center. “Kitchen fool,” Wade repeats.

Peter sighs, exasperated. He should’ve known Wade would make a production out of such a simple question. “And to what does that title entail?”

 Wade waggles his eyebrows, “I get to serve food to the pretty people at balls and parties.”

Peter rolls his eyes and turns his back on Wade. “Good for you,” he says over his shoulder.

“Have I ever told you how fine your royal ass is, Petey?” Wade calls back.

Peter is glad his back is to him, because a flush spreads across his face almost immediately upon the remark. He gasps, and has to force his feet to continue their movement. Wade laughs his way down the hall.

They don’t meet as often as they used to now that Gwen’s arrived, and when they do it’s late at night. Wade is all-hands tonight, grabbing and pushing and taking, taking, _taking_. His mouth is greedy against Peter’s, and his hands cup Peter’s ass, startling a gasp from his lips. “Wade,” he moans nearly coming undone at the seams.

Wade chuckles against his neck, leaving sloppy kiss up his jaw, and only marking him once where Peter’s collar hides his skin. He’d warned him at the beginning, “No noticeable marks.”

Wade laughed, crossing his finger over his heart and swearing, “Sailor’s promise.”

“You’re not a sailor,” Peter had said, slanting his lips over Wades.

That had been a year ago before their worlds were falling apart. Before the promise of marriage, and heirs, and Gwen. To be honest, Wade got along with his fiancée surprisingly well for the foolish lover. He never once played the role of jealousy, although Peter almost hoped he might. A little possessiveness never hurt the bedroom, after all.

Wade hums into his mouth, “Ah, I love your ass, Petey. I simply love it.”

“Shut,” Peter whispers in between kisses, “up.”

And he does, as it’s hard to continue talking when you’ve got someone else’s dick down your throat.

Wade leaves his bedroom through the front door, and Peter hopes he’s as subtle as he claims to be. Now that he’s engaged, he can’t be caught fooling around with… well… fools. Yet, Gwen still knows.

She first mentions it with small hints, as if she hopes he’ll bring it up himself. She says, “The fool has very pretty eyes, don’t you think, Peter?” She says, “I’ve heard that the fool does not like the ladies who surround him, have you heard that, Peter?” She says, “I know what he is to you, Peter.”

Peter flushes bright red, his cheeks match the ruby necklace he’d given her to confirm the engagement. “What?” His voice is more a squeak than anything.

She smiles, but it’s slow and it doesn’t meet her eyes. “I’d hoped we could love each other one day,” her voice is small when she speaks. She sounds so young. “But I do understand, never doubt that I don’t.” Peter nods, but he has nothing to say. What is there to say when he doesn’t love her? _Can’t_ love her? “I loved someone like him once,” she trails off and Peter refuses to ask who she speaks of.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

 “Don’t apologize for love,” she says, shaking her head. Her blonde curls fall against her face, framing it prettily. “Don’t apologize.” There are tears in her eyes when she leaves him. He knows he’s the cause, but he also knows he’d be foolish to think they’re because she loves him.

She’s just given up hope.

He thinks of asking Wade to become his manservant. They’d be much closer that way, he thinks. He almost asks Wade one night, but his mouth cannot form the words, and he instead confesses that Gwen knows. Wade pulls off him and nods, “She’s too smart not to.”

Peter looks down at the space between them, “This will have to end.” Wade nods again, the motion much too silent for how loud he usually is. Peter moves forward, catching Wade around the neck and pulling their lips together, “But not tonight.”

When they marry, Gwen wears a velvet dress with flowers adorning the sleeves. She looks lovely. Her hair is up, with roses pinned in. She would make anyone else a breath-taking bride. But Peter’s gaze is stolen by the fool holding her train. She knows too, he can tell by the tight way she smiles when she stops before him. The kiss they share after they’re pronounced man and wife is short, and sweet. To all but them, they seem the perfect couple, happily in love.

Wade stops him at the reception, “I’d hope to do this another time, but it cannot wait.” Peter tilts his head, what is he talking about? “Can we talk somewhere more private?”

He nods, excusing himself from the table. He can feel Gwen’s eyes on his back.

When they stop in the hall, Peter moves to speak, but Wade holds up a hand, “No, let me. I’m,” he cuts off, shaking his head. He swallows a shaky breath, then tries again, “I’m leaving. I’m moving to another kingdom far from here. Maybe I’ll even become a sailor. Or an assassin, wouldn’t that be fun, huh?”

“What?” Peter shakes his head in disproval, “No, you’re not.”

Wade shrugs, “I am though. I’d thought to wait until tomorrow or next week, but if not now, then never.” He straightens, and looks Peter in the eye, “I love you, that’s why.”

Peter’s breath comes out shaky, Wade had never said that before. Peter had moaned them into the silent night air, and whispered them into Wade’s hair, but never… They’d never said it seriously. They’d never taken _this_ seriously.

Peter opens his mouth, but Wade cuts him off again. “I respect Gwen-y too much to let you hurt her by being with me. I mean, I’d say I respect myself too much to be your mistress, but that’d be a lie,” he laughs, and while it’s not forced, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.

Peter says, “I don’t want you to go.”

Wade shifts from foot to foot. He glances at the floor, then shakes his head, “You could be happy with Gwen, baby boy. You could be happy without me.” He looks up at Peter, “You will be happy without me.”

“No,” Peter shakes his head forcefully, “No.” Wade’s fingers brush against his jaw, and then lock around the back of his neck. He pulls Peter to him, and their lips meet for the final time. “I love you,” he says against Wade’s lips. “I love you. Don’t go.”

Wade pulls away, “I know, Petey.” He turns.

Peter watches him walk away. He doesn’t cry. It doesn’t feel real. Even as he wraps himself around Gwen later that night. Even as Gwen cries out and he whispers that he _could_ love her.  Even as the days pass and the King hires a new fool. It just doesn’t seem real. It cannot be real.

And yet...


	2. Creepy Rapist Vampires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of all the vampires to encounter, it has to be this one?

“You’re annoying, you know that?” Peter says, mouth quirked to the side in a smile he just can’t help.

The vampire in front of him actually grins. What a useless bloodsucker. “I try my very hardest just for you, baby boy,” he says, bowing as if he’s done Peter a favor. He lifts his head, fangs protruding from his sly grin.

Peter has to reign in his smile before things go too far. He swallows, holding up his gun and aiming it at his heart. “Just hold still,” he says.

“Sorry,” the vampire darts out of the way when he pulls the trigger. And the smoldering voice is behind him, “Can’t do that.” The silver bullet tears through of tree branch before him. He scowls, turning slowly.

“What do you want?” He asks. He’s so done with this vampire business. He just wants to get home so he can take a hot shower and finish his homework before Aunt May gets home.

The vampire grins at him, lips red with someone’s blood. A drop slips down his jawline, Peter follows it against his will as it stains the pristine white of his neck. “The better question is what _don’t_ I want,” he steps closer to Peter, who steps back to match his pace. He laughs, a husky sound that shouldn’t make Peter’s heart stutter as it does.

The man— _vampire_ , Peter corrects himself—has shaggy blond hair that’s too messy and too _blond_ for him to connect to the cold killers Peter normally has to deal with. His eyes are brown and so filled with mischief that Peter has to look at his nose to maintain focus. He’s covered in fading scars from top to bottom, but that doesn’t take away from the pale magnificent shade of his skin. Honestly, he’s too beautiful to be much of a vampire, Peter thinks. He looks more like he’d just stepped out of Twilight than Dracula. He looks like a model for Abercrombie and Fitch, not like someone who Peter had caught with a woman between his teeth not fifteen minutes ago.

The vampire quirks his lips and steps forward again, “Name’s Wade, by the way. I can practically hear your thought paragraphs labeling me ‘that darn vampire’ and I resent that.” Peter steps back, not having any idea what he—Wade—is talking about, but knowing he doesn’t like it.

“Wade,” he tests the name on his tongue, and the vampire—damnit, Wade—hums.

“I like the way you say my name, baby boy.” He steps forward again, and when Peter matches him in distance, he feels the bark of the tree he’d shot earlier against his back. He swears under his breath, and Wade’s upon him. Hands blocking him in like a cement wall on either side.

He swallows in a gasp, but his heart stutters and the damn vampire can probably hear it. “What the hell, you rapist,” he says. “Back up!”

Wade leans toward him, and he holds up his hands, one aiming the gun at his heart, the other just trying to maintain any semblance of distance between them. Wade’s lips are soft against his neck, and he squeezes his fingers on the trigger. Wade grunts under the bullet that hits just south of his heart, and licks the skin of Peter’s collarbone. “I don’t think so,” he says.

“Back off!” Peter says, firing again, but Wade just scowls against his skin.

“Where do you think I got these scars, baby boy?” He asks, “Silver cannot kill a dragon.”

Peter stops in his struggle to stare incredulously at this unusual creep of a vampire, “Did you just,” Peter pauses and in his moment of surprise, the gun slides to the ground between them. He grimaces, but continues, “Did you just misquote Game of Thrones?”

“Yeah, you watch?” Wade pulls back an inch to catch his eye, “It was crazy last Sunday. That Peter Dinklage guy deserves an Emmy for sure.”

“We’re not discussing this,” Peter says. He’s so thrown off by this entire encounter. The gun fell against his right foot, and he entertains the thought of maybe sliding down just enough to grasp it. But Wade, as if reading his thoughts, moves forward, trapping Peter between his chest and the tree with little room to breathe. “Seriously,” he says, “back the hell up.”

Wade’s lips are at his collar again, “Not a chance, baby boy.”

He doesn’t know why he’s even calling his rapey failure of a vampire by his first name—even in his head. He’s crazed. He’s a real lunatic, the original definition withstanding.

Wade’s lips touch his skin, putting pressure there and Peter sucks in a breath, fearing that this is the moment. Wade’s going to kill him for real. No more teasing. And then his lips quirk into a smile, and Peter is almost frustrated. “If you’re going to kill me,” he says. “Just do it already.”

“Oh,” Wade says, “I’m not going to kill you.” Peter raises an eyebrow, turning his head to try to catch a glimpse of Wade’s face. The vampire presses his teeth into Peter’s skin, but it’s more of a nip than an actual bite, and then his tongue is there to soothe the non-wound. The vampire is giving him a hickey, Peter realizes.

He starts struggling again, “What the hell, creep! Get off! Let me go!”

Wade grins again, and actually backs up a step, but continues to lock Peter against the tree with his body. “Never,” he says. And he means it.


	3. The Worst Pirate Captain Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade just doesn't want to deal with anything. Especially the possible mutiny that's happening.

“Ahoy! Shiver Me Timbers, buckaroos!”

“Wade.”

“Yes, my dearest quartermaster?”

“Shut the fuck up and just hijack the ship already,” Peter said, unsheathing his sword and glaring at the pirate captain.

Wade grinned deviously and did just that.

Later, as they lounged in Wade’s quarters, and Wade’s hand had slipped down to grip Peter’s ass, he said, “Ya know, the crewmates are contemplating a mutiny.”

Wade pursed his lips, staring up at the ceiling, “You wouldn’t let that happen though, would you, baby boy?”

“Logan’s leading it,” Peter said in lieu of answering the question.

Wade sat up, his hand sliding to Peter’s shoulders as he did so. The younger man moved up with him. “Oh, of course he is. Think it’s cause I won’t stop calling him Wolverine?”

Peter rolled his eyes, “He really hates that name.”

“Might it also be because I named the ship ‘Bob?’?” Wade said, grinning.

“ _Everyone_ hates that,” Peter said, stretching his arms over his head. He got up to slip on a pair of pants, “Even me.”

“You’re just jealous I came up with such a brilliant name without your help, baby boy.” He said, rolling over. He stared blatantly at Peter’s ass as the man tugged the pants up his legs. Peter swatted at him, hissing at him to stop. Wade just laughed and reached out to pull him back into bed. He pulled Peter onto his lap, and grinned.

“No,” Peter said, struggling to get out of Wade’s hold. “Not again.”

“But Petey,” Wade whined like a child. Peter swatted at his hands again, and rolled over so they were lying side by side again.

“No, Wade.” Peter said, he pulled his shirt over his head, and glared over at the captain. “Maybe if you didn’t spend all your free time trying to get in my pants, the crewmates wouldn’t hate you so desperately.”

Wade waggled his eyebrows, “You think I should try to get into their pants too?”

Peter glared at him, scoffing as he walked out the door. Neena was waiting for him outside. He stared at her, “How did you—?”

She shrugged, “You guys usually take the same amount of time, and I have more information about the mutiny, so I figured I should just wait.”

“The same amount of—what?” Peter sputtered, and she shrugged again. “Ok, come on in.” He held the door, and she sauntered in. “Wade, get dressed. Neena’s here.”

“What do you mean ‘get dressed?’ Isn’t she here cause she’s finally agreed to that threesome I offered?” Wade grinned at her, waggling his eyebrows. Peter turned red.

Neena ignored Wade entirely, “So, they’re talking about attacking tomorrow night. That means we only have so much time to dismember the organization from the inside. I’ve talked to Anna, and she thinks if we can just convince Logan that you’re going to be better from now on,” She shot Wade a meaningful look. He held up his hands and feigned innocence. Sighing, she continued, “That maybe he’ll shut it down himself.”

“Or maybe,” Wade said, “I could just call up my buddy, Cable, and get him to bring in the big guns.”

“Stop giving us nicknames,” Neena said. “His name is Nathan, and brining in the heavy artillery isn’t going to make them trust you any more than they do now.”

Peter watched as Wade got out of bed, doing nothing to cover himself from Neena. Peter glanced at her; she didn’t seem to care anyway. She was looking out the window. Wade shrugged on his pants, and eyed Peter. He glared at Wade, until the captain finally sighed and said, “Fine, fine. Do whatever needs to be done.”

Peter smiled, “There, was that so hard, Captain?”

Wade’s lips tugged up at the name, but he said, “I don’t wanna make a grown-up decision ever again!” He stomped his foot as if to prove the point.

Neena rolled her eyes, “Well that means that you have to captain-up, and actually do your fucking job now, ya hear me?”

Wade waved his hand and glanced around, Peter handed him the shirt he was searching for. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, whatever.”

Neena eyed him, and left. Probably not believing he’d actually change, but hoping nonetheless. “And stop sexing up your quartermaster!” She called over her shoulder, “You’re gonna make them hate Peter as well!”

Wade practically leered at Peter, “Now that just ain’t gonna happen.” He caged Peter against the wall, and pressed his face into Peter’s collar. Peter rolled his eyes, and stared up at the ceiling. If anyone was gonna be making changes to stay in charge, he knew it’d have to be him.

Wade nipped at his neck.

“Hey! What’d I say about marks in the open?”

“Not to leave them.”

“Yeah, so—Hey!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this sucks. I wasn't feeling very inspired after last nights episode of Game of Thrones. I'm kind of dead inside. I barely got this out as it was!

**Author's Note:**

> so this is going to be a drabble collection in which every chapter is a different universe. comment with anything you'd like to see, i'm taking suggestions! i'm not sure whether it'll be 10 chapters long, 50 chapters long, or even 100. i'll keep going as long as i've got ideas and energy. hope you liked this!


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